


Static

by BamItsTaeTae



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Creepy, Horror, If you can tell me where the other members are I'll be marginally impressed, Plot Twists, Psychological Horror, Slow Build, Spooky, haunted items
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 19:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16101935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BamItsTaeTae/pseuds/BamItsTaeTae
Summary: For the briefest moment, a voice broke through the static. Seungcheol pulled back and looked at it, eyes as wide as saucers. He leaned in again, practically pressing his ear against the speaker. Nothing. He twisted the volume up slowly, straining to make out another voice. And then, soft as a whisper, it broke through again.“The world is ending,” The voice said.





	Static

     A cloud of dust billowed up from the cardboard box when it hit the attic floor with a soft thud, causing Seungcheol to cough for the hundredth time that day. He bent down next to the box, looking over the strange assortment of broken records and rusted cans for something of value. When he decided it was nothing important, he pushed the box over to the large pile of junk next to the stairs. He turned back to the now mostly empty attic he had spent almost the entire day in. He sighed in satisfaction.

“Seungcheol?” The smiling face of his grandmother appeared from the hole leading downstairs. “Oh, wow! Would you look at that? You’ve really cleared out the place, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” Seungcheol nodded cheerfully. “I only have to look through that last box on the shelf. Then I’ll start taking all the junk downstairs.”

“Really, I can’t thank you enough for doing this,” His grandmother said. “If you find anything up here you like you’re welcome to take it.”

“Oh, thank you!” Seungcheol said as his grandmother gave him one last smile before heading back down the stairs.

       He walked up to the shelf, singing a small dramatic tune as he pulled the final box off slowly. It was surprisingly light. He opened the box as if he was a magician revealing he had made his stagehand disappear. And, in true magic trick form, the box was empty. A little disappointed, he flung the box over to the junk pile. Turning back to the shelf, his eyes widened. A previously hidden, small wooden box sat before him. Two plastic nobs sat on either side of its gage and a speaker above. It was a radio, like a real old fashioned one. A giant smile spread across Seungcheol’s face. This was it. He was taking this.

-

-

“Guess what I got!” Seungcheol called as he basically busted through his apartment door.

“A portrait of me?” Seungkwan sat up from the couch, greeting his roommate with a cheeky grin.

Seungcheol rolled his eyes but didn’t drop his smile. “A radio!”

         He pulled the little device out of the box he was holding. Seungkwan raised his eyebrows, watching as his friend placed it on the table in front of him. He tried to wipe some of the dust off of it, with little effect.

“It’s ancient,” He mumbled, staring at the dust on his finger.

“I know!” Seungcheol said. “My grandmother gave it to me for cleaning out her attic.”

“Does it work?” Seungkwan asked, fiddling with the nobs a little.

“That’s what we’re here to find out,”

-

-

        The two of them tinkered with the little machine until it was well past dinner time, with little success. They tried looking online but nothing seemed to work. Eventually, they had no choice but to accept defeat. Seungkwan got some bubble tea in an attempt to liven the gloomy atmosphere, but Seungcheol’s tasted strangely spicy, thusly it only succeeded in increasing his disappointed mood. Seungkwan tried a few more times to cheer him up, but eventually, the two of them decided it was best to just sleep the gloom off. Besides, Seungcheol realized even if it didn’t work, the little radio still looked pretty neat sitting on the desk across from his bed. He gave it a little smile before lying down. Yeah, it was a good find.

-

-

      Seungcheol opened his eyes to pitch black darkness. As soon as he tried to lift his head, a surge of pain ran through it. It took him a second to register what had woken him up and given him such an intense headache, the sound of static. He looked around his room in confusion. He didn’t have a TV or anything of the sort in his room. Then it clicked. He had a radio.

       Excitedly, he climbed out of bed and flicked on his light. Indeed, the little machine was buzzing and crackling like it was brand new. Carefully, he twisted one of the nobs, watching the gauge carefully. The radio buzzed and whined as it tried to pick something up. But all it seemed to get was static. Seungcheol tried adjusting the position a few times but nothing seemed to work. Soon his head was throbbing from the continuous shrill of static and he knew it was time to call it quits. He had work the next day anyway. He looked over the wooden frame for some sort of switch to turn it off.

      For the briefest moment, a voice broke through the static. Seungcheol pulled back and looked at it, eyes as wide as saucers. He leaned in again, practically pressing his ear against the speaker. Nothing. He twisted the volume up slowly, straining to make out another voice. And then, soft as a whisper, it broke through again.

“The world is ending,” The voice said.

      Before Seungcheol had a chance to process what he’d heard, a scream erupted from the radio, piercing the air. Seungcheol let out a terrified cry and stumbled backwards, knocking his desk chair over in the process. He couldn’t even hear the sound of it hitting the floor over the screams. His panicked curses were also drowned out by the deafening cries as he desperately tried to turn the volume down. While he succeeded in turning it down to a more bearable level, he still couldn’t turn it off all the way. No matter how he twisted either of the nobs, it wouldn’t stop. He grabbed the radio and stumbled across his room to his bed. He wrapped it up in every blanket he had and tried to smother it with his pillow.  And at last, the only sound in the room was Seungcheol’s uneasy breathing.

       He stayed there in silence for several moments, still shaking, trying to process what happened. But his door swung open and a disgruntled Seungkwan stumbled through the door, looking half asleep and fully annoyed.

“What on earth are you doing?” He shouted, throwing his pillow at Seungcheol. “It’s two in the morning!”

“I-I’m sorry,” Seungcheol pushed himself off the pile of blankets. “The radio started working.”

“What?” Seungkwan looked over at the desk, utterly confused. “Then where is it?”

        Seungcheol pointed at the pile of blankets timidly. Seungkwan pursed his lips, watching Seungcheol unwrap the mess carefully. He pulled the radio out. It was completely silent. Seungcheol looked at his roommate helplessly, feeling extremely embarrassed. Seungkwan laughed a little.

“Well, clearly your brain is working just about as well as that radio,” He gestured between the two.

Seungcheol sighed. “Yeah, I guess I should try and a get a full night’s rest before I try and tackle electronics.”

“Sleep is important,” Seungkwan said, retrieving his pillow. “So, stop depriving me of mine and get some of your own.”

      Seungcheol apologized a few more times as his roommate stumbled back to his room. He looked at the radio, an uneasy feeling washing over him. What happened? Why did it pick up screams? He placed it back on his desk and returned to bed. Despite his headache diminishing as soon as the screams faded, he still struggled to fall asleep again.

-

-

      The next day of work was a long one. Seungcheol’s mind continuously returned to the night before. Part of him wondered if he had just dreamt it all. That would be a nice way to avoid any calling into question of his sanity. But judging by Seungkwan’s insistence that he be treated to bubble tea to make up for his “worst night of sleep ever”, it had really happened.

        As Seungcheol waited in the corner of the little bubble tea place, he scrolled through the unhelpful search results on his phone. It seemed no one else had experienced anything similar. Shocker.

“Order up!” Seungkwan presented the drink to his downtrodden roommate while taking a large sip of his own.

“Thanks.” Seungcheol took it and the two of them began their walk home.

        Once again it tasted spicy, but he drank it anyway, not wanting to ruin the pleasant mood or his friend’s efforts to lift his spirits.  As Seungkwan babbled on about how great that place was, Seungcheol made a mental note never to go back there.

      Eventually, the younger man’s attempts to cheer him up began to work. Seungcheol forgot about the radio for a while and just enjoyed his free time. But his troubles didn’t stay away for long, the throbbing headache returned, with a vengeance. He had had his fair share of unpleasant headaches before, especially in the past few months, but none of those compared to this beast. Despite Seungkwan’s protests, he decided to take some medicine and call it an early night.

       Minutes turned into hours, and still sleep evaded him. His headache persisted, as did an unexplained hissing sound. He had absolutely no idea where it was coming from and thusly, no way to stifle it. There was nothing as maddening as restlessly tossing and turning in your bed. Eventually, Seungcheol sat up, frustrated tears collecting in his eyes. He was so tired it hurt but too awake to keep still.

      He looked around the room angrily for the source of the hissing. His eyes landed on the small radio that still sat on his desk. Even in the darkness of his room, he could just barely make out the sight of smoke leaking out of its wooden frame. His heart skipped a beat. He reached over and flicked on the light. As the amount of smoke coming out of it began to increase, so did the volume of the hissing. Had it been on this entire time? Was it overheating?

       Panicking at the thought of it bursting into flames, Seungcheol began to climb out of bed. But the radio exploded into smoke in an instant. It billowed out of the tiny box, beginning to flood the room. Seungcheol pulled back onto his bed, pressing himself against the wall. He opened his mouth, trying to call out for help, but the smoke filled his lungs and no sound came out. His vision was quickly being blocked and his attempts at crying out were fruitless. Fear froze his limbs and he was utterly incapable of moving. The hissing was replaced with the sickening sound of static. Seungcheol was convinced he was going to die. The door flew open and Seungkwan rushed in, concern coating his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, running over to the bed. “Why were you screaming?”

        Seungcheol stared at him, eyes wide and sweat streaking down his face. The smoke was gone. The room was silent. His headache was starting to disappear. Everything was fine. But Seungcheol had never been more distressed in his life. He looked around in confusion. Tears started to slip out of his eyes and he choked back a sob. He was going insane. Seungkwan wrapped his arms around him.

“What happened?” He asked, softly. “Tell me.”

“It doesn’t make sense.” His words were muffled by Seungkwan’s shirt as he pressed his face into his shoulder. “There was smoke everywhere. I thought I was going to die.”

“It’s okay,” Seungkwan patted his back gently. “You were just dreaming.”

“No.” Seungcheol looked him in the eyes. “It was real. It was as real as me talking to you right now. It was that radio, it was all coming from the radio.”

     Seungkwan furrowed his brows and looked away, an unreadable expression crossing his face. Seungcheol clenched his fists, trying to get a hold of himself. Seungkwan stayed with him for a long time, long enough for them both to begin to calm down. He asked questions, trying to understand or believe what he was being told, but Seungcheol knew very well he thought it was just a dream or at worst a hallucination. And Seungcheol would have been inclined to agree, but nothing had ever felt as real as those moments. The memory was crystal clear, and it terrified him.

-

-

        He felt silly, like a child asking their parents to check under the bed for monsters. But he couldn’t stand the thought of trying to sleep in the same room as that radio. Despite having eventually fallen asleep the night prior and spending the whole day trying to forget about it, the memory was still painfully fresh. He didn’t even want to look at the radio, let alone touch it. He watched Seungkwan place it on their coffee table.

“Why don’t we just get rid of it?” Seungkwan asked.

“It was really important to my grandparents…” Seungcheol said. “I can’t just throw it away. And they would think I’m insane if I tried to give it back because it scared me.”

Seungkwan shrugged. “Alright. It’s up to you.”

“Thank you.” Seungcheol sighed. “I’m so tired. I’m just going to go to bed early again tonight.”

“Oh, hold on a second.” Seungkwan shuffled into the kitchen and returned with a glass of milk and some pills. “You should take these. It’ll help you get to sleep faster.”

“Thank you, Seungkwan.” He took them, gratefully. “Seriously, thank you for everything.”

“No problemo!” Seungkwan smiled.

          Seungcheol smiled a little too. He was thankful to at least not be alone in this. He placed the pill in his mouth and took a swift chug of the warm milk. As soon as it was down, his face contorted in disgust, and he started to cough.

“Are you okay?” Seungkwan asked. “Oh, gosh! The milk hasn’t gone bad has it?”

“I don’t know,” Seungcheol mumbled, getting control of himself. “It tastes… spicy.”

“Spicy?” Seungkwan pursed his lips. “The milk tastes spicy? Is it really bad?”

      Seungcheol nodded, tentatively handing the cup back to him. Seungkwan took the cup and stared into thoughtfully like it was a crystal ball.

“I’ll work on it, I guess.” He muttered.

Seungcheol laughed. “Let me know how it goes. Goodnight, Seungkwan.”

“Goodnight,” Seungkwan said, plopping down on the couch.

      As Seungcheol walked back into his room, his eyes drifted to the radio for a moment. It sat in front of his roommate peacefully, as if it had never done anything to hurt anyone. It made him sick.

-

-

     He was awake again. Seungcheol looked around his room in a daze, a familiar headache overwhelming him. The sleeping pills had worked, he had fallen asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. So, why was he awake again? There was no hissing or static, there was nothing. Then he heard the sound that had awoken him again, an utterly terrified scream that sounded just like Seungkwan.

    Seungcheol flew off of the bed. He burst out of his room, heart pounding in his ears. He looked down the hall, Seungkwan’s door was open, he wasn’t in there. He turned to the living room. The radio still sat immobile on the table. He began walking towards it, dreading each step. When he got close enough to see over the couch, he stopped. Seungkwan lay motionless on the floor in front of the table. Seungcheol stumbled to his friend, mind jumping to the worst. What if Seungkwan was dead? It would be his fault, it would be all his fault for not getting rid of the radio when he had the chance. Gently, he turned Seungkwan over. His eyes were open, but completely glossed over. No hint of air was coming from his lungs.

    The radio let out a small puff of smoke and the sound of static reached Seungcheol’s ears once more. He froze, eyes locked on the little machine. And all at once, a burst of determination crossed over him. He had to destroy it. He grabbed onto the little box, its wooden frame scalded his skin like red-hot mental. He ignored the pain and threw it as hard as he could on the ground. The front of it cracked open. He grabbed the largest book on the coffee table and started to smash it again and again. With every hit, his mind begged whatever controlled the awful device to give him back his friend. When there wasn’t another piece to be broken, Seungcheol pulled back, breathing uneasy and tears wetting his cheeks. His eyes drifted back to where his friend was lying. He was gone.

“S-Seungkwan?” Seungcheol’s voice came out hoarse and broken.

     He rose slowly, dread rising with him. He spun around, eyes flitting back and forth wildly. He took off back down the hall to his roommate’s room. It was empty. He was gone. His friend was gone. He was certain it was his fault.

“Seungkwan!” He called, his legs threatening to give out on him. “Seungkwan, please!”

“S-Seungcheol?” A concerned voice sounded from the kitchen.

     Seungkwan stepped out into the hall, removing an earbud. Uncontainable relief washed over Seungcheol. He ran forward and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re okay!” He said, completely hysterical.

“What?” Seungkwan asked. “What are you talking about? What happened? Tell me.”

“I-I…” Seungcheol paused. “It was just a dream. I’m fine.”

     Seungkwan looked at him closely for a while, obviously not satisfied with the answer. He mumbled something about cooperation and walked back into the kitchen, beckoning Seungcheol to follow him.

“Well, as long as you’re up,” He picked up a glass and presented it to Seungcheol proudly. “I fixed the milk. Go on, try it.”

      Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile. And the smile broke into a full-blown laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. Maybe he was losing his mind. But at least he wasn’t losing it alone. He took the glass, giving it a little raise before taking a sip. Seungkwan watched him intently. Seungcheol lowered it, still smiling. It was sweet.

“Yeah, it’s great,” Seungcheol said.

“Good.” Seungkwan nodded and stepped back, looking satisfied. “I’ve perfected it then.”

Seungcheol laughed again. “Perfected it?”

         Seungkwan just stared at him in anticipation. Seungcheol took another sip. It was good, but it wasn’t perfect. He felt air blow on his ankle, and he froze. His head was killing him again. The sound of static floated up from the floor. Seungcheol’s eyes grew wide and Seungkwan tilted his head, lips pursed. Slowly, Seungcheol turned his head. The radio sat on the floor behind him, completely intact. Seungcheol dropped the glass and stumbled backwards. His lower back collided with the kitchen counter and his legs gave out on him. The radio’s static got louder. Seungcheol let out a terrified scream.

“Seungcheol?” Seungkwan remained where he was standing, calm. “What is it? What are you seeing?”

“It’s back,” Seungcheol pointed at the radio. “How is it back? I broke it! I know I broke it!”

“The radio?” Seungkwan asked. “It’s still just the radio?”

      The static was unbearably loud. Seungcheol covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, praying it would disappear. Pain burned from behind his eyes, his headache was excruciating. He let out a weak cry of pain, struggling to pull any air in. Seungkwan bent down next to him. Seungcheol tried to grab a hold of him, but his body gave out and he fell limply to the ground.

“Help…” It was all Seungcheol could do to force the word out.

“That was fast,” Seungkwan muttered to himself. “Usually they don’t get to this point for at least another six months. I really have perfected it.”

        He didn’t understand, why wasn’t Seungkwan helping him. He tried to grab onto his leg, but his hands wouldn’t move. Seungkwan stood up, sighing. He picked up a little container from the counter. Seungcheol didn’t recognize it but Seungkwan held it like it was his baby. He pulled out his phone and pointed it at Seungcheol, beginning to film.

“Attempt number twelve. Single object obsessive hallucinations, the same as eleven. Overall time, one year and two months,” Seungkwan said, completely monotone.

      A year and two months? That was when they had moved into the apartment together. As Seungcheol’s thoughts began to fade, he started to understand. He’d been an idiot.

“Time since testing began, under three months,” Seungkwan continued. “Once formula was changed at two and a half months, upped the dosage to twice as much. It had the unintended consequence of bad taste, but it progressed much faster and much more severely. Final trial run: success. Step two can begin…”

       Seungcheol’s eyes slid closed and Seungkwan’s voice faded away slowly until the only thing he could hear was static.


End file.
